Salem

"Are you happy, Salem?"

"Happy?" I roll over, laying back in the lush grass and watching clouds pass by overhead. "Immensely so."

"Really?" her Orlesian accent whispers in my ear.

"Of course. The archdemon is dead, Ferelden saved. I'm free to do as I please." I relax, pleased that my swords are not strapped to my back, that my body is free from the weight of armor.

"And what is it that you desire to do?" her voice lowers, intimating desire.

"Anything," a slow smile creeps across my face, "so long as I am with you."

She laughs and covers my body with hers, mischief sparking in her eyes. "Anything?"

"Name your desire, dear heart." I run my fingers through her hair.

"You, Salem." she kisses me, breathing heat, passion, and longing. "Only you."

I return her kiss, abandoning myself to her touch, craving her hands as they trace intricate patterns over my skin...

"She is unconscious still."

Cold...I shivered...pain. Wha...where am I? What happened?

"I'm worried, Wynne." Leliana...she sounded so very far away. "Shouldn't something have changed by now?"

We must still be...in the caverns. Why am I lying down? Did...what happened with Kolgrim?

"L—Leli?" I rasped. Pain fissured through my jaw.

Metal...against my face. Kolgrim...struck me. How did I get here?

"Salem?" I felt a warm touch on my cheek. "You're freezing."

I felt her arms around me, lifting me into a sitting position. I gasped as pain radiated through my body. The shivering helped nothing, reminding me of every blow exchanged between me and the mad giant.

"Were...you..." the pain in my jaw made it difficult to form the words, "...hurt?"

Her lips pressed against my forehead. "I am fine." her voice caught and I knew she held back tears. "All of us are well."

"What..." the dry air caught in my throat and I coughed. Leliana held a canteen to my lips and I drank, wincing as I swallowed. "...happened?"

"Kolgrim and his men attacked us. When you killed him, the others fled." she explained. I felt her drawn something warm over my body. Grateful, I pressed closer to her. "How are you feeling, love?"

"Everything hurts." I tried to smile. "Having...trouble breathing."

"You took several blows to your right side." Leliana explained. "Wynne said you've cracked some of your ribs. I bound them in hopes that they would not break. Can," she hesitated over the question, "can you feel them?"

"No." I did not know if the answer set her at ease or worried her further.

I wish I could see you, I thought for what had to be the thousandth time. I want to look into your eyes and tell you that all is well.

"I'm glad." I could hear the smile. "Kolgrim dislocated your shoulder once again and may have cracked your jaw. I know you can feel that. Are you still cold?"

"Would you still hold me if I said no?" I asked, determined to assuage the fear I felt in her touch.

"Fool." she kissed me again. "Of course I would. But you are not going to like what I must do now. Wynne, she's awake."

No. Oh please no. I had hoped the injuries were not so extensive. Maker's breath, must it always come to this?

"You were unconscious for half a candlemark, Salem." Wynne came to my side and pressed her fingers to the pulse at my neck. "A concussion is nothing to sneer at. We cannot have you collapsing or thrown off balance in the battles to come."

And there are always more battles. No respite for the wicked and even less for the good.

"I understand."

"I am sorry, Salem." Leliana pulled me close. "I know how much you hate this, but it is necessary."

"Don't...don't let go." I whispered, waiting.

Wynne's hand touched my shoulder and I gritted my teeth. Pain speared through my body. This is necessary, I forced myself to believe as I screamed between clenched teeth, I have to endure this...to continue on. Oh, Maker, please make it stop!

Leliana wiped sweat from my brow and held me close. I knew that watching this ripped her heart in two. It was part of the reason Wynne had sent her away the night Marjolaine had killed me. Leliana, I focused my thoughts on her as the flow of magic began to ebb, your heart is too kind for your own good. Can you ever forgive me for continuing to hurt it?

"Salem?" she asked as I gasped for air.

"I'm...all right." I assured her, though it was the furthest thing from the truth. "I'm fine, Leli..." her name was cut short by a cry of pain as Wynne's magic flooded me again.

I placed my hand between my teeth, cutting off a scream. Acid coursed through my blood, and my body trembled, muscles spasming as I fought to endure it. Tears that I never wanted to shed, that I never wanted another to see, coursed down my cheeks.

"Wynne," Leliana whispered, her voice rough, "stop. She's had enough."

"No." I grasped my lover's hand with my own. "She isn't finished."

"Salem," she pleaded with me, "I cannot believe this is helping you. Wynne?"

"I will admit that your reaction to healing magic is far from the norm." the senior enchanter sounded rattled. "But I can see its effects already. One more spell should be enough. It will not heal you entirely, but it will diminish the pain and remove the risk of further complications from your head injury."

"Wynne, are you certain?" Leliana argued. "You're still exhausted from the fighting. To over-exert yourself now would be most unwise."

"I am more than capable of performing a few simple healing spells." the healer assured her. "I have rested and the lyrium has done its work. Salem needs this, Leliana."

Leliana touched her forehead to mine. "I hate seeing you in pain. You frightened us all, Salem."

But you took it the most to heart. I lifted my chin and pressed my lips to hers, reassuring her. "Once more, then it's done." I whispered. "Wynne, if you please."

The mage's fingers perched on my jaw and her magic flashed through my body. I held Leliana's hand in a vice grip, holding onto her as my blood boiled in my veins. Unwilling to scream again, I let my tears take over, sobs wracking my body as Wynne's last spell worked its way through.

"I'm here." Leliana whispered. "I'm here, my love. Be strong. It will be over soon."

My back spasmed as the last of the magic faded. "Thank you, Wynne." I breathed. I did not wish the healer to think I was ungrateful for her ministrations. But I had always reacted adversely to healing magic.

I laughed as a memory crossed my mind. "Salem, are you well?" Leliana pressed close in worry.

"My...my father." I brushed the last of the tears from my cheeks, feeling only a dull ache in my shoulder. "I had fallen from a horse and broken my arm. I refused to see the healer. So, my father told me that if I refused another's aid, I would be forced to set the bone myself. I...I agreed..." I laughed again, remembering the arrogant girl who hid her fear of pain with utterly stupid bravado.

"This is not amusing, Salem." Leliana commented, dry.

I calmed and settled into her arms. "I did attempt to set the bone." I continued. "And failed. Miserably. I forced the bone through the skin. If I had managed to avoid fainting, I would have been terrified."

"You are that averse to healing magic?" my bard asked, shock in her tone.

"I was then." I chuckled. "I did not know at the time how much need I would have of it. I learned that day. I woke in my bed, with my father glowering at me. Every injury after that, no matter how minor, he made me see the healer. To make me stronger."

"I still do not see how this warrants laughter."

"It did not, at the time." I smiled, though my heart grew heavy. "But there is humor in it now."

"Dark humor." she kissed the tip of my nose. "It suits you."

"Every darkness as its light." I lifted her abused hand to my lips and kissed it. "Sunrise for sunset. Spring for winter. Alistair for Morrigan."

Leliana choked as her laughter surprised her. She coughed and gasped until her breathing evened. I longed to see the smile I knew she wore.

"You for me." I finished the thought.

"You are my light." Leliana insisted. "And I love you. Now rest, Salem. The others are still sleeping and Wynne has retired again."

She lay back down and pulled me with her. Reluctant, I follwed. Painful as the reality was, I preferred it to the sweetness of the dream. I would wake from dreaming and find it a lie. But this, I reached out and stroked Leliana's hair exactly as she liked, was perfection.

Pure, unadulterated, flawed, painful perfection.